Fairy Tale Robbery
by preciselypotter
Summary: Meet James Potter: modern-day Robin Hood, con man, thrill seeker. He and his merry Marauders have been hired to steal from none other than the highest in the land. Meet Lily Evans: the Queen's sister, activist, (likewise) thrill seeker. Lily Evans is James' mark. James Potter is in for a few surprises. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Fairy Tale Robbery  
Chapter 1**

"The Cinderella."

James groaned. "The Cinderella?"

"It's our best bet," said Sirius, shrugging. "Unless you've got something else to propose."

He didn't.

"I hate The Cinderella," he said, and kicked the leg of the table. "Why? Why, why, why?"

"Stop whining, Prongs, you sound like a child," Remus grunted. He didn't look up from whatever program he was running on the desktop, and the glare James shot him went unobserved.

"I'm always the Cinderella, though," said James. "Why can't Padfoot do it?"

"Me?"

"You're always going on about how much better looking you are than I am," he pointed out, "and Lord knows the Cinderella needs a nice face."

"Yeah, but his personality is shit," said Remus.

Sirius nodded. "That's true, I am shit."

"Absolutely unconvincing for 'love at first sight' cons."

"Horribly unromantic."

"The only 'Prince' that would have him would need to be even more conceited than he is."

"Very full of myself, I am."

"Shut up," James snapped, disgusted with their repartee. Honestly, those two just wanted to see him suffer. He knew it. Wasn't _he_ the ringleader of this group, at least once upon a time?

Damn it, this was why he shouldn't let Sirius make any of the decisions. Not ever.

"We could always do The Frog Prince," Peter suggested in the corner, taking his attention from the myriad of spy gadgets he was fiddling with on his work bench. "Prongs can pull that one off just as well."

"Thank you, Wormtail," James said. "We _could_ do The Frog Prince. I make a fantastic prince."

"Two problems with that," said Remus. "First off, all day affair instead of in and out, and the exit plan doesn't account for outside interference. Second, it doesn't gather all the essentials into one area. It's a singular con, not useful for crowd distraction."

"It could be made into a crowd distraction," he argued.

"What, by drawing everyone's attention? Like The Cinderella does?"

"Yeah!"

"That would make it The Cinderella, then."

James ran his fingers through his hair. "Bloody _buggering_ hell."

"Sorry, Prongs, it's all we've got for this," Sirius said.

He sighed. "Fucking— _fine._ Who's the 'Prince' mark?"

Sirius opened the file they'd received from the Order not two hours ago. "Meet Miss Lily Evans."

James stared at the photo. "No," he said, his stomach dropping. "We're robbing the _royals?_ "

* * *

The Cinderella con was relatively easy, as far as cons went. The main idea of The Cinderella was distraction. Show up in a flashy car, in a flashy outfit, with a face and personality to go with. Draw the attention of the "Prince" of the room and catch everyone's eye…leaving the thieves to do their work in peace. Then at the end of the heist, the "Cinderella" would check their watch and suddenly, they had to go, it was after midnight or whatever time their curfew happened to be.

Of course, it was important that the so called "Prince" mark was not the actual person being robbed. A memorable face paired with a robbery shortly after led to unwanted flags in law enforcement circles. No, the "Prince" was usually the darling of the room, someone to whom the "King" and/or "Queen" (the actual person or persons losing precious items) would be paying close attention.

Usually, the royalty terms were code names, but this time the "King" and "Queen" in question were actual the actual King and Queen…and the "Prince" was practically a real princess.

James couldn't count the number of misgivings he had about this heist.

His merry foursome of thieves (the Marauders to their clients) had worked with the Order of the Phoenix for nearly two years now. Established upon the Loxley ideal of "rob from the rich, give to the poor" by the well-meaning if crooked founder Albus Dumbledore, the Order targeted only upper class citizens who denied their wealth to the homeless and in-need and… _redistributed_ accordingly.

That in itself was fine by James. In addition to protection from the law for their services, his crew got a decent enough cut—enough to live comfortably—and they could carry on with the thrill of a good heist with none of the guilt.

(Not that James had ever felt much guilt about stealing. After all, he'd never taken from someone who would seriously miss what was stolen. A few tens of thousands from a millionaire didn't rack his conscious. That might have made him a bad person, but that was alright.)

But the royals?

The security would be tighter than anything he'd ever known, for one, and for another, who in their right mind would steal from a sovereign? That _screamed_ insanity no matter how you looked at it. Whoever was bold enough to steal—and get away with it—would be the center of a manhunt so wide in scope that fleeing to the Bermuda Triangle wouldn't be enough.

In theory it sounded fantastic, but James was supposed to be a responsible sort of thief these days. What on earth was Dumbledore thinking when he marked the royals as targets?

Well, he knew James couldn't say no. The man had a rather… _particular_ hold on James that was impossible to wiggle out from, try as he might from time to time.

He flipped open the folder Remus had procured for him.

"Miss Lily Rosetta Evans," he read, and couldn't help but to snort in amusement. Honestly, with a name like that and those good girl looks, and all the adorable little philanthropy projects she reportedly took up… James could easily picture what sort of girl Lily Evans was. She'd be easy to charm, no doubt about that.

* * *

"I can't believe you," Petunia hissed. "Vandalism? _Vandalism?_ " she repeated herself, as if Lily had somehow not heard her.

She had.

"It wasn't vandalism," said Lily. "Creative demonstrating, really. It's artistic!"

"I don't think calling our Prime Minister fascist trash is _artistic_."

Her sister said it in such a way that the each syllable proudly stood out on its own. _Art Tis Tic._ Petunia had a strange talent for making syllables much more robust than they ought to be when she was angry.

"He is a fascist, Tuney," Lily said. "Not to mention draconian, racist, homophobic, virulently misogynistic—"

"Yes, I caught all that _from your artwork._ "

Lily sighed and crossed her arms. "Listen, the Registration Bill passes in two weeks unless Parliament vetoes it. Without public support, they'll all just follow Riddle along like lambs to the slaughter. Someone has to get the word out."

Her sister went an awful shade of puce, a color Lily was almost certain had originated in her husband.

"That is _not_ the way we _do things_."

"That's not the way _you_ do things," Lily countered. "You might have married into the royal family, but I'm a free agent. I'm just the sister-in-law."

Petuna spun on her heel and began pacing. "What you do affects not only yourself, but also me, and what affects me also effects Vernon. Do you think he's interested in giving a statement about the Registration Bill? Do you think it even _matters?_ We're a figurehead monarchy!"

"That doesn't mean you can't use your position to do some real good!" Lily said hotly. "People pay attention to your family! What you do is followed by everyone in the country, whether or not they care about politics."

" _Exactly_ ," she snapped. She looked Lily dead in the eye. "They care about fashion, or whether or not I'm pregnant. They care about our chinaware collection. What the citizens of this country do _not_ care about is whether or not we have an opinion about the current state of affairs."

"You could make them care."

"I don't _want to_."

Lily let out an " _ergghhh!_ " that ripped out between her teeth and tore at her throat. "What is the point of you?" she demanded of her sister.

"I'll leak a photo placing you at another location during the act of vandalism," Petunia mused. "Henrietta should be able to make at least one tabloid pick that up. Perhaps you planning a garden party—I don't believe anyone but the staff saw you in that chartreuse sundress last Wednesday, and they all know to keep quiet when it comes to you."

"I don't want you to—"

"And you'd better not go spouting off your political views at the ball tomorrow night," she said over Lily. "If I hear even one word of your ideology during our fundraiser for that housing eviction I'll cut you off completely. No more fundings for your nonprofits."

Lily bit her tongue.

Getting cut off from her own bank account was one thing, but she funded several after-school programs for children that relied on her.

Damn Petunia for knowing exactly where leverage her. Damn her for being cold enough to follow through with it, too.

"Fine," she said, her teeth gritted tightly. "No _politics_. I can do that."

There were other things she could do to get back at Petunia, after all.

* * *

James checked his tux again, smoothing out any wrinkles the mic under his shirt had possibly revealed. He had to look smart, sharp, and straight out of a men's fashion advertisement. James might spend most of his time in jeans and a t-shirt, but he knew how to dress for success despite himself.

"You read me?" he said.

Remus' voice crackled in his ear. " _Read you loud and clear, Prongs_."

"Fantastic. Excellent work, Wormtail."

"I'd like to adjust your comm," Peter said worriedly from the corner of the room. He scurried over to James and reached toward his face. "I can see it from a 47° angle—if security sees it, they'll know something's going on."

He sighed. "Have at it, then."

Peter fiddled about for a long moment, his clammy fingers poking and prodding places in James' ear that James would rather not have fingers anywhere near.

"All better?" he asked.

"Hmm." Peter considered him, walking around him and moving from his tiptoes into a crouch. "It's hidden well enough now, but you should really look into the TS180 model that came out recently. Virtually undetectable. My contacts say they're the best update to comm software yet."

"I'll consider it," James said. It wasn't entirely a lie. "If we get a good enough cut from the Order I'll put the budget towards it."

Peter looked excited, which was enough for James. He left the gadgets to Peter, who'd spent his entire life fiddling with electronics, and trusted that as long as he kept Peter happy, he'd do what James asked.

Loyalty was easy to buy with Peter.

The pair of them left the lobby bathroom and headed out to the stretch town car parked in front of their hotel. Sirius was waiting, hat in hand, the perfect image of a driver with his shoulder-length hair pulled into a respectable knot at the nape of his neck and not a hint of his usual mischievous smile.

"Sir," he said to James, and nodded to Peter.

"How are we today?" James asked casually. _Are we fully prepared?_

"Lovely evening, sir, if I do say so myself," Sirius told him as he opened the door for James and Peter to climb in. _Everything's set._

Remus waited inside the town car, looking every inch the secretary they'd decided he would portray. He'd even donned a pair of glasses which made him look sharper. He looked up when James and Peter slid in across from him.

"Oh, no," he said over the slam of the door. "No, that won't do. Prongs, you've got to sit next to me."

"I can't," James said. "I can't be sitting next to my secretary. That's not how it's done."

"Just for a moment, at least," Remus huffed irritably. "We've got to tuck Wormtail under the seat before Padfoot starts driving."

Both James and Peter leapt up, James being extra careful of his tuxedo.

The bench they'd been sitting on opened up by pulling up the seat cushions, which were so comfortable one would never suspect they were attached to a lid. Peter climbed inside and lay down as if he were being put to rest in a coffin. James shut the lid and sat back down, patting the cushion.

"Alright in there?"

"It's dark."

James and Remus nodded at each other just as Sirius pulled into the London traffic.

* * *

Lily tugged at her skirt.

It ballooned out in layers upon layers of tulle and fabrics, a fluffy monstrosity that made her look like a cartoon princess, and not the pretty Disney kind. She couldn't even drop her hands down at her sides because it stuck out so much.

Petunia had insisted upon the dress.

Lily had been fitted for three, and this was the one she liked the least so naturally her sister had landed upon it during her final say.

So, despite her protests, Lily had been poked and prodded and trussed up within an inch of her life.

She glared at her reflection that was so obviously _not her_ , and then glanced at the clock. There was still a good half hour before Lily had to be down in the ballroom.

An awfully mischievous idea struck her.

Lily pulled open the door into the hallway. "Susan," she said pleasantly to the maid waiting outside her dressing room, "I wonder if you could do me a favor."

* * *

The driveway was clogged with limousines and town cars when Sirius pulled in front of the palace. They had to wait twenty minutes before Sirius could park in front of the entryway, and by that point James was almost fidgeting with irritation.

It took a lot to make James fidget.

"Calm down," Remus said sternly. "You're acting like an amateur."

"I hate this," James muttered, just as the car door opened.

Sirius peered inside the car. "Sir? We've arrived."

James plastered on a charming smile and stepped out of the town car, saying loudly, "Expect me by one o'clock at the latest."

"Very good, sir," said Sirius, while Remus nodded.

James gave them both a slightly smug grin and turned to strut up to the doorway.

Thank fucking god there weren't any paparazzi taking photos. Once James had needed to call off an entire heist because of the flashing cameras surrounding the building, and he'd paid out of pocket to recompense Dumbledore. That was a nightmare.

He reached for his right cufflink, looking as though he were merely fine tuning his appearance, when really he was shutting off the comm link.

This was the reason he hated the Cinderella.

"Lord James Potter, Earl of Godric's Hollow," he said to the security team barring him from the palace doors. "I'm on the list."

* * *

"You really shouldn't, miss," Susan said for the tenth time. All the same, she was taking out the last ugly pearl pin from Lily's hair with unwavering hands.

"Come off it, Susan, you know I looked awful."

"The Queen won't be pleased."

Lily scoffed. "Is she ever? Now, I want it in a bob, if you would be so kind."

"Yes, miss."

"And those diamond earrings of Petunia's."

Susan gasped. "Oh, _no_. Miss Lily, please think about this."

"I have thought about it," said Lily. "Petunia said no politics, and I agreed. No politics. None whatsoever."

"This is a bad idea."

"On the contrary," Lily replied. "This is a good idea. It's just bad behavior."

* * *

The blokes didn't know about James' lineage.

They always assumed he used an alias to get into parties, and James didn't exactly dissuade them from those thoughts. He never outright lied, but he couldn't deny it was dishonest.

But how in good conscious could James run a group of misfits who robbed from the rich and stole from the poor if he happened to _be_ one of the rich? Or, if not exactly rich, at least one of the well-off and titled nobility, a true blue blood. It was alright for Sirius, he was cut off from his family funds. James had…resources.

Those resources had led Dumbledore to track him down and blackmail the Marauders into the Order.

It wasn't as if James hoarded his wealth. He paid his taxes—generously—and contributed to the wellbeing of Godric's Hollow. Zero percent homeless, with the projects given extra funding. He loved his village and kept it thriving. He wasn't a greedy sort.

James scanned the room for that signature red hair, just as he'd been doing (as surreptitiously as possible) for the last fifteen minutes.

Either Lily Evans was extraordinarily late, or she wasn't coming.

If she wasn't coming, the entire con was in jeopardy.

" _Do you see her yet?_ " Remus asked through the calm.

James lifted his champagne flute to his lips. "No," he murmured. Despite his talents in ventriloquism, one could never be too careful when talking to the apparent air.

" _Prongs, if she doesn't show—_ "

"I know, already," he muttered. "Just give it a few…"

There was a ripple of murmuring throughout the room and James cast his eyes around to see the source of the (relative) excitement.

Oh.

Well, now.

"I _think_ I see her," James said, pushing past his surprise.

" _What do you mean, you think?_ "

"She's…a bit different than I'd expected."

* * *

Lily wondered if there would be headlines tomorrow. _Queen's Sister Sheds Her Good Girl Image_ or something inane like that. Not that she could see any cameras or obvious journalists in the mass of elites, but she wouldn't put it past these people to gossip.

Let them.

She stepped out onto the ballroom floor, vindictively enjoying the eyes upon her. She knew her midnight blue dress had their full attention.

The neck was high and came up into a collar around her neck, a long window for her cleavage stretching down almost to her sternum and revealing that she was not, in fact, wearing a bra, though if anyone had thought so after looking at the back (or lack thereof) of her dress they were likely very stupid.

The skirt hugged her hips just tight enough to show she wasn't wearing any knickers, either, flaring out at her knees in an asymmetrical cut and ending just high enough to show off her fantastic stiletto heels.

If she were anyone else, she'd want to shag her.

Lily wasn't the sort of person to show herself off like this, usually, but so far she was soaking in the distant horror she felt coming off Petunia in waves. Vernon was probably ignoring her with a fervor rather than display his embarrassment at her behavior.

But if Petunia had any complaints, well, Lily could guarantee that anybody looking at her right now was absolutely not thinking about politics.

* * *

 _I tried uploading this a couple of weeks ago but something went wonky. In any case, due to certain ~reasons~ I've decided not to make this a tumblr-only fic. Cover art generously provided by thearcherballet. Hope you enjoy!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Fairy Tale Robbery  
Chapter 2**

James was running through a thousand facts in his head about Lily Rosetta Evans all at once, and none of them factored in that dress. Or that smirk. Lily Evans was supposed to be an angel—that was what Remus' file had said! That was what every news outlet and background check said.

Damn it, if she was in the middle of an identity crisis right now…

Or perhaps, he realized numbly, she'd just had extraordinarily good luck with media coverage. That or her sister had done a bang up job of hiding that apparent wild side.

He was still staring at her.

At least he wasn't alone in that regard.

In fact, that included her Majesty, Queen Petunia, whose glare was so sharp and cold James was genuinely expecting to see knives flying out her eyes and impaling the daring girl.

This could work, he reasoned out. His approach might need to change, but Lily Evans as she was most certainly filled the role of the "Prince" in their con. No one could say the "King" and "Queen" weren't absolutely focused on Lily, and besides that, it would be even less suspicious for James to approach a good looking young woman wearing _that_.

If he could call _that_ "wearing" anything. Bloody hell, she was sexy.

"Slight adjustment to the plan, boys," James breathed into his champagne flute. "I'll be signing off for a bit."

" _Prongs, did something go wrong?_ " Peter's voice buzzed in his ear.

"Relax," he said, before putting down the glass and then fiddling with his "cufflink" to shut off Remus and Peter's protests. Let them worry—James was actually looking forward to playing out The Cinderella for the first time in a long, long while, and he didn't want his team's voice in his ear for it.

* * *

"Prongs? _Prongs?_ " Remus nearly hurled his headset off, but a quick glare from Peter had him freezing mid-motion. "Damn it," he said instead, flopping back into his seat.

Peter sat across from him in the town car, his laptop open and currently running a simulation. His forehead was scrunched in what was likely a mixture of concentration and worry.

"Should I try a remote connect?" he asked Remus.

"No," Remus sighed. "Prongs is probably expecting that. He'll be blocking us."

" _I say let him be_ ," Sirius' voice crackled through the tiny speakers on the inside of the car door.

"Padfoot, if he's gone dark, we've got no eyes inside the ballroom in case something goes wrong," Remus said tiredly. "You'll be the one in the most trouble if that happens."

" _Did you hear him, though?_ " Sirius said. " _I haven't heard him sound so excited for a con since before we joined the Order. He'll pull through. Probably with flying colors, at that._ "

"You think he sounded excited?"

" _I know he is_."

Remus pursed his lips. "Fine. We'll let the matter be for now. But that's not good behavior for a leader."

" _You know, Moony, for a bloke who breaks the law for a living, you sure are fixed on decorum._ "

"I'd like to not wind up in jail, thanks."

* * *

" _Take the next left and you should be coming to a door with a keypad lock_ ," Peter's voice said in his ear.

Sirius peered around the corner with three quick turns of his head—in front, to his left, to his right—and then silently but swiftly walked toward the door.

"Combo?" he muttered.

" _6-1-7-4-3-7-9_."

They'd done this before. Countless times, actually, but Sirius hadn't felt his blood pounding like this since his first heist.

Robbing from royalty would do that, he supposed.

When the light turned green and the door buzzed, Sirius pulled it open and shut it quickly behind him, observing the room. Just as promised by their liason from the Order, the security room was empty.

" _Now, Padfoot, do you see a computer to your left?_ "

"I see about five computers to my left, Wormtail."

" _This one is smaller than the others. It should have a green cord coming from it_."

Sirius squinted. It looked to be the closest computer to him. "Alright."

" _Take the USB I gave you and plug it in._ "

"And then what?" he said as he pulled the USB out of the giant bag strapped to his back.

Peter, with that rare confidence of his that only came out in the middle of a heist, said, " _Then I'll make sure you're unstoppable is what_."

* * *

"I know what you're up to."

Lily turned and looked up toward the very attractive face of the man who'd just spoken.

"Excuse me?" she said.

He gave her a wicked grin. "I said, I know what you're up to," he repeated. "I don't think most of these prim and proper folk have caught on, but to me it's obvious."

"Oh?" despite herself, Lily felt a coy smile blossom on her lips at the challenge. "Then, tell me; what _am_ I up to?"

His glasses glinted in the chandelier light as he leaned forward a little. "You're trying to piss her off. And it's working."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Well, aren't you interesting? You seem to know what's on my mind, but I don't believe we've met."

"Allow me to remedy that," the man said, and his smile reminded Lily that she was currently without knickers. "James Potter."

"Is that _Lord_ James Potter?"

"Sadly, yes."

Lily snorted before she could stop herself, but James didn't seem to mind the unladylike sound. Furthermore, his eyes were entirely focused on her face—that or scanning the room—and he wasn't looking at her breasts at all. A perfect gentleman.

She would have to do something about that.

"Alright, you caught me, James Potter," said Lily. "Do you have siblings you like to piss off when they're in the mood to ruin your life's ambitions as well?"

"None to speak of, but I do know how to cause trouble so I'm an expert at spotting it."

"An expert, now?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh, really?"

James' eyes twinkled. "Miss Evans, do you doubt the word of a gentleman?"

She pouted. "Gentle? I'd rather hoped you were a little more…rough."

Oh, yes. There it was.

Lily watched with no small amount of satisfaction as James' lips parted a little and his eyes glazed over, and then he was giving her a full-body once over.

A small part of Lily's mind was aware that going from zero to sixty in less than five minutes was a poor decision. She hadn't actually _set out_ to seduce anyone tonight, all appearances aside. The outfit was mostly for Petunia's benefit (or consternation, rather). That small part of her mind was screaming to bring it down a notch.

On the other hand, James Potter was exceptionally attractive—just her type, really—and there was a certain flavor of delightful rebellion boiling in her blood that she didn't want to ignore.

"Rough I can do, given…ah, given the occasion."

There was a naughty gleam to his eyes. Lily shivered.

* * *

Sirius couldn't believe he'd made it to the safe room without running into a single guard. Peter's voice in his ear had guided him every step of the way. Sirius preferred James' voice in his ear, usually, but he wasn't about to complain. Not tonight.

" _Wait ten seconds for the guard to pass and then you can take a left_ ," Peter advised. " _The safe room is five meters past the corner._ "

He counted the seconds off on his watch, the digital numbers running the milliseconds for him with satellite accuracy.

Ten.

Sirius peered around the corner and then made a dash for the safe room door.

" _Unlocking…now_."

The red light above the thumb pad blinked green twice and then buzzed, and Sirius yanked it open and shut himself inside.

There they were—the loot, all neatly lined up in separate glass cases.

On the far left, a golden goblet with an artfully carved crest. Beside it, a gleaming sword with rubies on the hilt and pommel, the blade shining in perfection. To its right, a crown (" _diadem,_ " Remus had insisted) with curves and pearls. At the end, a ring that looked a lot less impressive than it actually was.

All four of the cases were surrounded with sensors.

"Wormtail, let me get at them," Sirius muttered. His fingers were itching to steal the treasures.

" _I just need to—oh, no._ "

"What?"

" _This shouldn't be…_ " Peter made a high-pitched whimper. " _Padfoot, you've got to hide. Back wall, behind the standing desk. Now!_ "

Sirius dove for the desk, giant sack in hand, with a pretty impressive tumble—left over from his year in a travelling circus—just as he heard the electronic lock buzz open again.

* * *

James knew—he _knew_ —he was off script. Flirting with Lily Evans was part of the plan, even if the flirting he'd partaken in for the last half hour was far more dangerous than his usual Cinderella fare, but he was supposed to do it in the ballroom where he could keep an eye on the "King" and "Queen" for the boys.

He was _not_ supposed to be in the billiards room down the hall.

And yet…

Lily ran her fingers up and down the pool cue suggestively, looking over her shoulder at him and biting her lip. James tried to ignore the tightening in his pants.

"I hate large parties," Lily said. She stepped around the pool cue rack and hopped up onto the billiard table. Her breasts jiggled a little—oh, no. No, he wasn't looking there. Or at where the fabric of her dress rode up to where her legs crossed at her knees. "Everyone in there, they're all so rich and pretentious. I can't stand them."

"On the other hand, you can't scandalize them when you're in here," said James.

"True. But I can be far more scandal _ous_."

He swallowed as she tugged the skirt of her dress up, up, _up—_

"Miss Evans," he said, somehow managing to sound normal and suave despite himself, "I do believe you're trying to seduce me."

"Hmm, I wonder what on earth gave you that idea?"

"Probably your bare legs."

Lily leaned forward with a wicked smile. "Did you know," she began, "that absolutely no one in the palace enjoys playing billiards?"

Oh, this was going _completely_ off script.

"No?"

"No." Lily uncrossed her legs and James just…gave up. Honestly, he was no match for this girl in the first place.

James started toward her with a prowling gait. "So, what you're telling me," he said slowly, "is that no one is coming in here tonight?"

She smirked.

* * *

"I want double surveillance around this room."

Sirius didn't even breathe.

King Vernon stood in the middle of the safe room with his apparent head of security, gesturing around with his meaty hand. If Sirius so much as breathed, he would be found.

So, there he was, trapped like a pinioned butterfly, and about as comfortable as one too.

"I don't know why the sensors were shut off but they need to be kept on," King Vernon continued, "and the security log must be sent to me at the end of the night. We are to present these heirlooms next week at our banquet with the Prime Minister and I want every precaution taken."

"Yes, your Majesty."

He waited…waited…waited…

 _Finally_. The door shut and the lock buzzed. Sirius stood up—only to wish he'd managed to sneak out of the room.

Lasers were coming out of the wall, from lights he couldn't even see imbedded. These weren't Hollywood lasers, either—they didn't burn, but they were sensors, and neither did they require some spectacular acrobatics to get around. These were half a meter apart in boxed formation, which meant they were impossible to navigate.

"Wormtail," Sirius said as calmly as possible, "Do you think I could get some help?"

" _I've sent Moony in to the security room_ ," said Peter. " _He'll do the best he can. Just hang on_."

Where the _fuck_ was James?

* * *

James had not planned to have the night go quite like this. Lily Evans was supposed to be a good girl, one he could wrap around his finger and charm, kiss her hand at the end of the ball. But here he was, fucking her on top of a billiard table. _C'est la vie._

"Oh god," she panted. "Oh, _yes_."

She leaned back on her elbows, her head thrown back. James had his hands on her hips but that was more for show than actual guiding. Lily was a fucking artist when it came to table sex. The _sounds_ she was making…

Her dress was bunched up around her waist. James had been surprised he could push the fabric up at all, considering how tightly it clung. But when he'd managed it at last, without ripping anything (thank god), he'd seen that Lily wasn't wearing even a stitch of underwear, and from there James' mind had gone a little…fuzzy.

Thank god Lily had pulled a condom out of the little drawer under the table.

(He hadn't even questioned it.)

" _Harder_ ," she said now, and reached up to grab the lapel of his tux with one hand. She pulled him in for an open-mouthed kiss and James almost came right then. She kissed his neck once, twice—

"Jesus," he breathed, when her tongue slid inside his ear. " _Jesus_ , bloody, buggering, _fuck_ —"

"Against the wall," she all but growled.

"Fuck, yes."

James wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up. She clamped her legs around hips like a vise and her arms around his neck, and James staggered over to the nearest wall.

"Ouch," she said, when he slammed her next to a portrait of a long dead, frowning duke.

"Sorry."

Lily's tongue went back into his ear for one glorious second and then she laughed, loudly, her entire upper body shaking against his. She laughed even as she began to pump her hips again.

James shifted his grip. "Something funny?"

"No, not exac— _ungh!_ " her voice cut off when he made a sudden thrust.

He smirked. "What was that?"

Lily ran a hand down his chest, fingernails scraping against fabric. "Shut up and shag me."

The portrait on the wall next to them rattled.

* * *

" _Slower_ ," Remus said.

"If I go any slower," said Sirius through gritted teeth, "I won't be moving at all."

" _That's the idea_."

Peter had managed to overwrite the system to release the lasers around the glass casing, and Remus had configured enough of the security around the cases that Sirius could actually do something. However, his situation was tenuous—if he went too fast, he'd be picked up by the partially befuddled security system. If he went too slow, Remus or Sirius might be kicked out of the system.

This was the third of the artifacts. Naturally, it was the most challenging.

"If I stab myself, I hope going in slow motion keeps it from killing me," he growled. His arms hurt from lifting the sword from its stand. The damn rubies made the piece heavy.

" _Don't stab yourself,_ " said Peter, sounding worried. " _If your blood gets anywhere the DNA evidence—_ "

"It's a joke, Wormtail. Relax."

And…

"I have it!" Sirius exhaled long and loudly. "I will now replace it with the facsimile. _Please_ keep the laser beams off me."

" _Try to hurry_ ," Remus advised. " _Unlike Wormtail, I'm not a tech expert. This system is far beyond me_."

"Slow down, hurry up," muttered Sirius. "Make up your mind, will you?" He blew a lock of hair that'd slipped from his bun out of his face.

* * *

"How's my hair?"

James looked up from tucking his shirt into his trousers.

"Ah…let me," he said, and stepped forward to tuck a few stray wisps of dark red hair back into place. "Looks fine, mostly. Miraculously."

Lily chuckled. Apparently her laugh was now a turn on for him, which James did his best to hide the evidence of. "All that and my hair's still in place."

He finished tucking in his shirt and zipped up his trousers. "Have you seen my belt?"

"I think I dropped it over…" Lily walked to the billiard table and bent down. "Here we are."

"I've got it," he said, starting toward her.

"Don't be silly."

"Look, if you keep bending over like that we're going to have to get another condom," he told her, and Lily looked over her shoulder with a wicked grin. Damn her. "Now, come on, we can't be gone that long from the party."

Lily let out a groan that should have been illegal. "Spoilsport," she teased, but stood up with his belt dangling from her fingers.

"You're so fucking sexy."

She winked. "Thank you."

"Can I have my belt back?"

"Hmm…" Lily wrapped the heavy end of the belt around her hand once, twice, and then snapped it tight. "James, out of curiosity, just how adventurous do you like to get with sex?"

He really was no match for her.

"Plenty," he said, "but not tonight. Some other time?"

"You and I both know there's not likely going to _be_ some other time," said Lily. "So, what'll it be, James?"

His watch said the time was 12:30 already.

James had already been totally unprofessional tonight, in so many ways, but if he missed the exit time he wouldn't just be an unprofessional ass, he'd be an unprofessional ass who could get them all caught and thrown in prison for his carelessness.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, and came to stand in front of her, "but I really can't stay."

Lily wrapped her arms around his waist. "Aw, but baby, it's cold outside."

"If it were up to me, I'd love nothing more," he said. It wasn't a lie. "But I've got things to do tomorrow."

Her lips curled into a pout and she took a step back, holding out the belt.

* * *

Remus was just about done in by the security system, even with Peter guiding him through the blocks of code. It was a lot like reading a foreign language he'd learned bits of as a child—every once in a while something sprung up that he recognized but beyond that he might as well have been reading Cyrillic.

(That was the foreign language he'd learned bits of as a child, by the way.)

He was preparing for the system to shut him down entirely when he heard Sirius' voice over his shoulder, "Managing?"

Remus just barely kept himself from jumping.

That was Sirius for you—quiet and sneaky. They hadn't given him the codename "Padfoot" for nothing.

"You stink of sweat," he commented instead.

"Yeah, well, I got nervous," said Sirius.

And when Remus turned to look at him, Sirius didn't just look sweaty. He looked pale, and shaky, and as if he needed a good lie down after imbuing some serious liquor.

"Head to the car," Remus told him. "Wormtail, have some water ready. And a protein bar. I'll do what I can here to hide our trail."

"Don't get caught," Sirius said. He clapped Remus on the shoulder.

"I'll be lucky if that's all," said Remus. "Unfortunately, even with all the off-the-cuff work Wormtail did, they're likely to find our alterations. We'll have to throw out all of our I.P. carrying tech just to be safe."

Sirius sighed and left the security room.

* * *

"What the _fuck_ happened, Prongs?" Sirius hissed from the driver's seat up front. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"I had some…unexpected interference," James said to all three of his crew. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I was almost _caught!_ By the _King_ , no less! What were you doing?"

 _More like who was I doing._

"I'm sorry, mates," he said, and almost meant it. "There were some complications on my end. Nothing to be done about it. If I could have warned you, I would have."

"We'll take precautions to ensure it doesn't happen again," said Remus. "In the meantime, let's count this mission as a success, and get some sleep when we're back at the hotel. I gave us a late checkout so feel free to sleep in."

James didn't think there _were_ any precautions to be taken against Lily Evans. She was one of those naturally occurring phenomenon that no man could stand against. Like a hurricane. Or a tsunami.

Something wet.*

If it had been any other day, any other time—if it hadn't been a con, and she weren't his mark, James would have pursued Lily. He knew that in his bones. It wasn't just because of the incredible sex (god, it was _incredible_ sex) either; she was his kind of troublemaker.

(Okay, so that move with the belt was intriguing.)

Sadly, he was never going to see Miss Lily Rosetta Evans again.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Fairy Tale Robbery  
Chapter 3**

It was with very little fanfare that Petunia stormed into Lily's quarters, lips tight and eyes narrowed. Usually she had a procession of guards and aides but today, it seemed, she wanted to keep their sisterly conversation private.

Which was a wonderful step up from two days ago.

"You _summoned_ me?" Petunia seethed sarcastically, holding up her phone.

"I didn't _summon_ you, I asked you to come see me," said Lily.

"Twenty-two times."

Lily almost felt bad about that. The last time she'd done a text spam she'd been massively drunk and harassing her ex-best friend. (She'd just written "fascist pig" about fifty times, with varying success in spelling.)

"I can't exactly leave my quarters, as per your instructions," Lily reminded her sister. "How else am I supposed to get you to come talk to me?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't talk to me at all."

She blew out an indignant huff. "Love you too, sis."

"Was there something you wanted from me?"

"Yeah." Lily straightened up from her slump on the bed. "Listen, can I have my MacBook back now? For good behavior and all that."

Petunia crossed her arms. "Why?"

"I'm not going to conspire against the government with it," said Lily. "Just look stuff up on the internet, as we young folk like to do."

Judging by the expression on Petunia's face, her sister was far too suspicious and unwilling to let Lily have her way based on that flimsy promise.

She would have to tell the truth.

"I'm trying to look up a bloke."

"Oh?" Petunia's shoulders relaxed a little but the disapproval on her face remained at maximum. "Would he be the same one you disappeared with at the party? Lord James Potter of Godric's Hollow?"

 _Godric's Hollow_.

Lily silently thanked Petunia for that bit of information and smiled brightly.

"I think he and I got on rather well. I wanted to look him up and have a cup of tea with him."

"I doubt _tea_ is what you have in mind."

A light thrumming started up in Lily's lower belly and she had to order herself to not squeeze her thighs together. No sexy thoughts until later.

"We only talked about art," Lily lied for the twenty third time. "No more, no less."

"Hmm."

Lily sighed loudly, sounding far too much like a teenager to her own ears. "Tuney, I swear I'm not up to anything terribly bad." Yet. "I just want to do a search and make some notes. Please?"

"…Fine. You'll have to wait a bit, though. It's being examined."

She stared. "Excuse me?"

"All the hardware in the palace is," Petunia waved her off irritably. "It's not about you."

"Why?" But Lily suspected she might know the answer.

"We've been robbed."

* * *

James sat on a bench in the park, looking out at the duck pond that, at the moment, housed only the fake duck used to bring the real ones in. It was supposed to make the ducks feel safe but James couldn't imagine a wooden duck making anything feel safer.

He checked his watch again and heaved a sigh.

It was ten minutes past the set meeting time, and given the nature of this meeting James was both annoyed and anxious at the delay.

For a moment he let his mind wander and, as it did every spare moment these last two days, his thoughts landed on Lily Evans.

Which was not good.

The lads still weren't speaking to him other than the occasional, discontented mutterings that he was clearly meant to hear.

Oh, well. They'd get over it eventually.

An old man sat next to James on the bench and pulled a newspaper out of his coat pocket. He opened it with a snap and flipped a few pages in.

"I heard you were careless."

James stared straight ahead at the bobbing wooden duck. "We got the job done."

"There was a trace in the system. My operative says security was increased halfway through the job, despite their efforts to make things easier on you."

"There were some unforeseen circumstances."

"Ah, yes." Albus Dumbledore peered over the top of his newspaper, blue eyes all-knowing behind those half-moon spectacles. "Apparently, the palace security is already aware of their loss."

 _Damn it._

"Do they know when the items were procured?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay neutral.

"No. Your tech expert may have left a trace but he made a mess of their systems. For all they know, it could have been any time in the last two days."

James blew out a relieved puff of air. "He's good."

"So you tell me." Dumbledore turned the page. "I won't lie, James—this was not up to the standard I require of my operatives."

"Technically, I'm not your operative," James said. "I'm under contract with you. It's different."

"You want to split hairs about our working relationship when I'm calling your professionalism into question? My, my, how very bold of you."

He bristled. "I have my own pool of clients," he told Dumbledore. "If you weren't blackmailing me, I wouldn't even be one of your so-called operatives. I'd be raking in my own loot. And why were we sent to rob the royals when you've got an operative inside already?"

"Don't be stupid, James, it's not a good look for you," Dumbledore advised. He paused in his charade of reading to check his fob watch. "I have a larger plan that you are understandably not a part of and for that plan I need an inside man. Now, if this inside man is complicit in a crime, how on earth can I gain information from them if they're locked up?"

"And what does this larger plan have to do with rare artifacts?" he said, now thoroughly irritated.

"Do you really want to know?"

James sighed. "No."

No, he would much prefer to be left alone to his schemes and his mates, stealing for the thrill of it rather than enacting some grand design. Let the do-gooders carry out their plans and their ideas—he'd rather just rob the lot of them and carry on in his little corner of Godric's Hollow.

"Believe me, James, if you were interested in what I am to accomplish then I would most certainly let you in on it," Dumbledore said. "I daresay your team is particularly well suited for such a thing. Not that they know it."

Dumbledore folded his newspaper back up and stood, his elegantly carved cane supporting his weight as he rose to his feet.

"No new assignment today?" James couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"I'll let you alone for a while," said Dumbledore. He tucked the newspaper back into his coat pocket. "Go enjoy your 'pool of clients' outside the Order. Whether or not this is a punishment or a reprieve, I'll leave that to you to decide."

He strolled off, cool and casual, looking every inch the elegant old man who'd never hurt a fly. Such was Albus Dumbledore's image.

 _Crooked old fart._

* * *

"What are you doing here, miss?"

Lily whirled around. "Susan," she said sweetly, smiling despite her heart beating so hard she thought it might be trying to escape. "Hullo."

Susan looked over Lily's shoulder. "Isn't that the security room?"

"Susan, darling, listen," said Lily, "all I want is my computer back. That's all. Then I'll go back to my room, quiet as you like, and I won't bother anyone at all."

"Miss…"

"I'm not causing any trouble!" she insisted, still smiling. "Just having a look. You would too, wouldn't you?"

Susan sighed. "Is it your computer you need specifically, miss?"

"Well, not _specifically_ …"

"Because the library has a set of computers that have already been looked over."

Lily nearly jumped for joy. "Susan, you absolute _genius_ of a woman!" she hurried over and clasped the maid's hands in her own. "Don't tell my sister I was out, will you?"

"…If she asks, miss, I'm not going to lie," said Susan.

"That's alright," she agreed. "I wouldn't fault you for that. All I want to do is look one little thing up and then I'll be back in exile. That's a promise."

Susan looked doubtful but Lily just beamed at her until the maid nodded slowly.

* * *

Half an hour later Lily had snuck down to the library, evading any of the palace guard who knew of her quarantine. Most of them seemed distracted by the NCA Officers, who were strutting around the palace with a lot more authority than they ought to have, considering that nothing had turned up yet.

The computers were in the back. Old things, they were—relative junkers.

"Suffer, Evans," Lily muttered, booting up the nearest computer.

At least the robbery had managed to get the attention off her.

After James had left, Lily's night had gone down like a shot bird. Petunia had, at least, waited until after the part was over to give Lily the scolding of her life, which really was saying something considering the number of scoldings she'd given Lily in the last six years.

That wouldn't have been so bad if not for the entire army of guards, maids, and staff surrounding them. Vernon had stood off to the side, shaking his head furiously and turning an unpleasant shade of puce.

Nothing was off the table. Lily had never been so slut-shamed in her life, and even then she'd insisted that she had only talked with James instead of shagged him silly.

Angry and irritated as she was with Petunia, Lily couldn't deny the sting of it all. Relatively speaking, it was just a dress. A risqué dress, certainly, and a little inappropriate for the occasion and her public image—the public image Petunia kept up despite Lily's best efforts—but she hadn't done anything truly radical that people would care about.

This robbery was turning out to be a blessing in disguise, because now Lily's attire was not the worst part of Petunia's week.

And honestly, Lily hadn't been a fan of the artifacts in the first place. All treasured heirlooms of Prime Minister Riddle's ancestors? As if they should be honoring a rightfully toppled monarchy's living heir. How stupid of Vernon.

How stupid of the public, really, to elect a man with both rightful claim to the throne and aspirations toward power into the highest office of the nation.

The computer finally turned to the home screen.

"Alright, James Potter," Lily said to herself. "Let's see what you're made of."

She typed " _Lord James Potter Godric's Hollow_ " into the Google search bar and waited a little impatiently for the search engine to get on with it.

Nothing.

At least, nothing noteworthy. No Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or even an abandoned MySpace account. There were no pictures of his face, not even when Lily clicked on the "Images" option. All she got there was a picture of a younger version from a newspaper article announcing thirteen-year-old James' sudden inheritance of the Potter fortune—and the title of Earl—after his parents died of pox.

Her heart squeezed a little at that, but she didn't linger.

Lily changed her search parameters to include "party" and managed to come up with some newspaper articles that had side mentions of him.

" _…and Lord James Potter, making an appearance. Following him was Lady Jeanne Ashbury and her escort…_ "

That sort of thing was the fruit of her efforts.

She leaned back in her chair and groaned.

He existed. He definitely existed. James Potter might not have a social media presence, nor was he a well-documented figure of the nobility (hard to believe, considering how handsome the man was), but he wasn't completely hidden from the public eye.

Lily opened a word processor window and started copying-and-pasting the parties that James had attended, compiling a list.

She had a new search to make.

* * *

James had a stack of folders filled with information for potential clients piled up next to him, but he couldn't concentrate at all.

 _I have a larger plan that you are understandably not a part of_.

What on earth was that old coot on about yesterday? Since when did the Order of the Phoenix have any other plan besides "steal what you can" and all that nonsense James had signed up for? Just how long had this supposed plan been in place? Had James ever unwittingly aided Dumbledore's grand scheme?

Ugh, he wasn't supposed to be worrying about this. He didn't have to contend with the Order for a while now.

At least he wasn't thinking about Lily Evans.

… _Now_ he was.

"Shit!" he hissed, slapping his palm on the desk.

There was a knock on his door.

James stopped moving, stopped breathing, listening hard.

No one had his flat number—no one except Sirius, and Sirius was right pissed at him. He wouldn't be coming around for drinks for days. So unless it was the super…

The knock sounded again, a light, non-threatening rapping.

James stood and opened his desk drawer, pulling out his handgun. He didn't think he'd have to use it but it would always be that one time he didn't grab it that someone would try to kill him.

The person behind the door knocked yet again just as James approached the peephole. He peered out—

And blinked.

No. Surely not.

And yet—

"Is that you, lover?" Lily Evans called lightly. "I can hear you moving around."

James checked the safety on his gun before tucking it into the waistline of his trousers. He tucked his shirt over it and took a moment to collect himself.

Slowly, James undid the locks on his door and pulled it open.

"Well, isn't it about time," Lily said, waltzing inside as if he'd invited her. "I was hoping the long wait meant you'd just gotten out of the shower and I could get an eyeful—but this will do."

"Lily," he greeted her warily. "How did you find this place?"

She spun in place, her sundress twirling with her. She looked every inch the good girl James had first been expecting: light makeup, modest clothing, low heels, and what looked like a woven bag on her arm. A pre-approved wardrobe, no doubt.

"Oh, let a girl keep her secrets," she said with a sweet smile.

Tense as he was, James couldn't help but admire her. This "innocent darling" look of hers was almost as unbelievably sexy as the daredevil appearance she'd donned the night of the party.

He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone," she sighed loudly. "I have access to my brother-in-law's staff, in case you didn't realize. It was easy to convince them to give me your contact information—which they had due to your attendance the other night—and say it was to return a dropped handkerchief. Gullible things they are. Even after all this time they believe me."

"Lily—"

"You know," said Lily, waltzing around his desk with sashaying hips that held his attention, "I'm surprised the Earl of Godric's Hollow is living in a one room flat like this. You don't even have matching furniture. Is it a game? A fun way to deceive your friends?"

"You tell me," he said. He didn't let his surprise show at the casual use of his title. "Apparently, you're the expert on deceptive appearances."

Lily stopped walking and tapped her fingernails on the glass top of the desk. "And you're the expert on cons."

His blood froze. He could actually feel ice crystallizing in his veins.

She laughed. "You didn't realize that when I had my tongue in your ear, I felt something metallic stuck inside. I had to go back again just to make sure I wasn't imagining anything."

 _The comm link_.

"But what really clued me in that something suspicious was happening," she continued, "was the wire and mic taped to your chest. You didn't think I wouldn't feel that when I was pressed up against you, did you? Careless. You should have more practice with this by now."

"I'm plenty practiced at pulling off a con," James defended himself, a little irritated at the way she wagged her finger at him. "I just don't usually—ever, that is—shag the mark."

"I was the mark?" she raised her eyebrows. "How strange. _I_ didn't have my ten billion pounds worth of precious artifacts nabbed from my double-enforced vault with extra security around it. Perhaps you grabbed the wrong—"

"That's how the con works," he said. "Bloody hell, I shouldn't be saying this—I was supposed to keep you in the ballroom so I could keep your sister and brother-in-law's attention on _us_. That's what I should have been doing."

"Instead you fucked me against a wall."

"Among other things, yes."

Lily pursed her lips.

James sighed and sank onto his sofa. "Listen, I understand if you want to turn me in," he told her. "You probably feel betrayed by me. Also because I'm a criminal, but…I feel you should know, I've never done anything, with anyone, like I did that night with you."

"You mean you were a virgin?"

"No!" he snapped. "No, I mean, I've never shagged a mark. I'm not a prostitute, I don't get paid to have sex. I just…well, you were…you're sort of…"

"Irresistible?" Lily suggested coyly.

He shrugged. "That's not exactly wrong."

"Well I hope you're a professional, despite your little slip up with me—slip _in_ , I should say—because I want to hire you."

James blinked.

 _What?_

Of all the things he'd been expecting when Lily showed up on his door (not that he was able to expect much), this wasn't even a fathomable possibility.

"Hire me," he repeated.

"You and your crew, yes," said Lily. "I want something done and I need someone much more talented than I to do it. And I can pay you."

"Depends on what the job is," James said cautiously.

Lily smiled sweetly. "Nothing so terribly dramatic as a jewelry theft. I only want to break into the Prime Minister's offices, steal the hard copy of the Registration Bill, and plaster it everywhere on social media and the news."

"Only," he echoed faintly.

His earlier assessment of her was correct: a naturally occurring phenomenon, indeed.

* * *

 _Thanks all for reading! Love to hear your thoughts :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Fairy Tale Robbery  
Chapter 4**

"Let me run through this again—"

" _Again?_ "

"Again," James repeated. He clasped his hands together and pressed them to his chin. "You want me to break into 10 Downing Street, steal a full copy of the…what, three hundred page long Registration Bill, and plaster it all over Britain?"

Lily pouted. "Are you saying you can't?"

"Can't?" he shook his head. "That's not the issue here. I'm saying I _won't_."

"Why?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Because that sounds like the most dangerous plot I've ever heard."

"You robbed the royal palace three days ago."

"That was different," said James. "My client provided solid support."

 _And there wasn't a choice in the matter anyway._

"If it's money you need—"

"I'm talking about actual support," he said over her. "Funds mean nothing if the task at hand is too risky. Don't get me wrong, I love a good gamble with high stakes, but if the odds are my crew and I will get caught—"

Lily frowned disapprovingly. Sadly, this was also, apparently, a new turn on for James. He swallowed and looked at her bag for a moment so that he might regain his composure.

"I can't put my crew in danger like that, Lily," he finished quietly.

"Perhaps you don't understand why I'm asking," she said. She sat down at the desk— _his_ desk—and crossed her legs, something that made his mouth go dry. "The Registration Bill, at its surface, is xenophobic but more of the standard fare we've come to expect from the Riddle administration. However, underneath the basic premise, its true effects are far more insidious.

"For example, the Bill invokes a clause that enforces the policing of any undocumented immigrants. Not only immigrants, but the children of immigrants, and their grandchildren. The Bill requires extra paperwork for _any_ descendant of undocumented immigrants and grants the power to the state to deport anyone who doesn't fill in that paperwork. And how will they even know, when it's all been buried under a mountain of superfluous verbiage!"

"Superfluous verbiage?" Despite his shock at Lily's revelations, James couldn't help but snicker.

Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed pink. "Am I _wrong?_ "

"You're adorable."

"I can't believe a grown man just called me adorable."

"Am _I_ wrong?"

Lily huffed a sigh. "Well? Will you help me?"

James scratched the back of his neck. "One question—if I don't help you, what are you going to do?"

"Do it myself."

"Well, we can't have that," said James. He hid his smile with a brush of his hand over his mouth. "I suppose I'm going to rob the Prime Minister."

Her victory smile lit up the room.

* * *

Lily practically skipped out of James' flat.

Of course she would have been happier if James had gone and made a move, but the second he agreed to help her rob Prime Minister Riddle it was like a switch had flipped. His seriousness had taken her by surprise.

And damn it all, if that wasn't just as sexy as his daring side.

She left the foyer and slid on her sunglasses, a smile twisting on her lips. She hadn't felt this satisfied since…well, since James Potter had done her against a wall.

Just as she rounded the corner, Lily heard a whistle.

Not the "nice legs" sort of whistle, either—a summons.

She turned.

Down the alley to her left was a mangy lump of coats and a hoodie, shuffling toward her. Lily peeked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching before she strode toward the figure. She reached into her overlarge purse and pulled out a paper bag.

"Cheers," she said, passing it over.

The figure took it with both hands. His grimy fingers opened the bag up and dug inside, pulling out a bread roll. He shoved the roll into his mouth and tore off a large bite.

"Fanks," he said around the bread as he chewed.

Lily didn't let herself cringe at the sight of half-masticated food. "No, no, thank _you_ ," she said instead. "I'm really grateful."

The figure swallowed. "Wasn't much I did," he said. "Just said I knew the bloke's face."

"And if you hadn't told me he lived here, I wouldn't be able to meet with him just now," she replied, smiling sweetly. "That would have made my life rather difficult."

"He's just a bloke."

"He's just a bloke to you, Dung," Lily corrected. "To me he's quite a bit more."

"Oh yeah?" Mundungus Fletcher took another bite. "'S he rich or som'fing?"

"Don't go biting off more than you can chew," she said, eyeing the roll. "And believe me, that bloke in this building is far out of your league."

Mundungus shook his head. "I don't want no trouble."

"I didn't think so." Lily pursed her lips and looked him up and down. "You've got somewhere to sleep tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, I've got a place."

"You're sure?"

"Oh, yeah."

Lily nodded. "Listen, I was wondering—have you looked into that other thing I asked you about?"

"The BLM thing?"

"Yeah, that thing."

Mundungus scratched his scraggly beard and tiny crumbs spilled out of it and onto his coat. "Girly, hate to disappoint and all but that's something you should be asking someone other than a street rat about, yeah? Bit above my paygrade." He laughed at his own joke—a raw, honking sound.

"Can't you…dig through the trash? Or something?" she pleaded.

"They shred everything."

Lily clamped her teeth together to keep from cursing. She didn't think Mundungus would mind, exactly—just the opposite, but that wouldn't be according to script.

Every person in Lily's life saw a different side of her. Petunia saw the bratty younger sister who liked to rebel, while Vernon saw a thorn in his side. Her youth charities saw her as a darling, same as the media, and her friends saw an activist. What Mundungus saw was a posh young woman who wanted information.

That was how she liked it.

Ever since the day Petunia met Vernon (a prince back then, not a king), Lily's life had been put under the microscope by friends and strangers alike, purely because of her sister. She couldn't stop that, much as she'd tried in the early days. The least she could do was control what the microscope focused on.

And if Petunia was going to make her out to be a charity darling in the press, well…so much the better, if she was digging for information. That persona suited her for moments like these, because if Petunia was tracking her movements through a private investigator (like she'd done in the past) then tales of a sweet do-gooder passing out bread wouldn't raise alarm.

So Lily played her role willingly, for once, in front of people like Mundungus Fletcher.

"Well, if you _do_ find anything—"

"I know, I know," he grunted. "Send up a ring. Got anything else for me, girly?"

Lily smiled gently and pulled a tupperware case from her large bag. "Chicken," she said, handing the container over. "Boneless, just as you like it."

"Right then," said Mundungus as he snatched up the chicken. "I'll see you around."

"I'm sure you will, Dung," Lily said. She turned to walk away and called over her shoulder, "Try not to get into too much trouble. I won't have the funds to bail you out for a while."

* * *

"Rob 10 Downing Street?" Sirius repeated, blinking, with the vague resemblance of someone who had just slipped on a banana peel.

James shrugged. "Well, why not? We robbed the palace this week."

He felt a bit like a puppet. It might have been his mouth making sounds, but the words were all Lily's. He'd be more bothered by that except he couldn't help but agree with her cause.

Sirius let out a strangled laugh. "Yeah, and I almost got caught! I lost about twenty years off my life that night, Prongs. What on earth makes you think I want to die at a young age?"

"Who says you're going to die?"

"From stress."

"No one dies from stress, Padfoot."

"I've always been one to pioneer."

"It won't be like last time," James promised. He could actually guarantee that, considering there would be no spontaneous billiards room sex. And no Lily Evans. "I'll take point, if you like. It'll be my neck on the line, not yours."

Sirius managed to look both bored and frustrated. "Why are you even considering this job? We got paid well enough for the palace heist to last us a couple of months—and you're the one always going on about spacing out our high profile jobs to avoid suspicion."

"It's a favor for a friend," James said.

"Ha!" barked Sirius. "You don't have any friends that I don't know about. Come on, out with it. What's the real reason?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was for ethics and morality?"

"No."

"Well…it is. For ethics and morality."

"Liar."

"And because of Lily Evans," James added wearily. He couldn't convince Sirius of anything—they knew each other too well.

Sirius squinted. "Lily Evans? The mark from the palace heist?"

"Yeah," said James. He ran a hand through his hair. "She, er, she's the client."

"James?"

Oh, he was in trouble. Sirius never used his real name unless the situation was, pardon the pun, serious.

"Yes?"

"How come Lily Evans is the client?"

"Because she has money?"

"James."

He winced. "Because she figured out that I was part of the robbery and tracked me down. She, er…felt my comm link."

Sirius crossed his arms. "James."

"Yes?"

"Your comm link was in your ear."

"Yes."

"How did she feel your comm link when it was in your ear?"

"Ahh…with her tongue."

"With her tongue."

"Yes, with her tongue."

"Her tongue was in your ear."

"Yes."

Sirius' lips thinned. He lunged for James and put him in a headlock before James could even blink.

"Her tongue was in your ear?" Sirius roared. "While I was trapped, with the bloody _King_ in the bloody _safe room_ , you had Lily Evans' tongue in your ear? What the living fuck?"

"Some people like that!" gasped James.

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Wait a second—"

Sirius tightened his arm around James' neck. "Are you forgetting I know all your weird kinks, Prongs? You and the bloody mark were shagging, don't even try to deny it."

James could barely breathe. "…Yeah," he wheezed. "Yep."

"Oh for—" Sirius let him go at last. "I hate you."

"I know, Padfoot."

"That better have been the best shag of your life."

"It was, Padfoot."

"Oh, shut up," said Sirius. His glare could have burned through concrete.

James coughed. "So you're in?"

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe I'm saying yes," he grumbled. "I can't _believe_ you talked me into some stupid scheme of yours, yet again."

"Come on, mate," said James. He took a step toward Sirius and put his hands on his friend's cheeks, pulling their foreheads together. "Come on. Isn't that what we do? What we've always done? You and I, we're the ones who pull off the impossible together."

"The improbable," Sirius corrected him, but he looked slightly mollified. "We pull off the improbable."

"It's only improbable because we've proved it can be done," James said. He pulled out his trump card. "Don't you want to fuck with Riddle? After all, he's the one who pulls the strings of your family."

A maniacal gleam enters Sirius' eyes. "Oh, _yes_. Yes, he is their puppet master, isn't he."

James felt a little bad about playing on Sirius' hatred of his family. It was a low tactic, especially since he'd spent a good amount of time ripping Sirius away from his self-destructive tendencies and steering him to a healthier way to deal with his rage.

Which was stealing.

It was healthier, but not entirely healthy.

* * *

"Where did you go yesterday?" Petunia asked over the soup course at dinner.

The question came out of the blue, and it took Lily no small effort to keep from spitting out the lobster bisque.

"Pardon?" she managed, thankfully sounding less alarmed than she felt.

"You went out yesterday," said Petunia. She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "I specifically remember telling you that you weren't to leave to premises."

Lily plastered an innocent smile on her face. "I only went to deliver some bread to the poor," she said.

Keep the lie as close to the truth as possible—that's what Lily had learned the hard way as a teenager.

"Oh? Where, pray tell, did you go to do that?"

"East London," she replied, and took a sip of her water.

Petunia frowned. Clearly, she'd been hoping to make Lily squirm.

"I don't see why she must stay in the palace," Vernon said at the head of the table. His soup bowl was cleaned out and Lily could see a faint line of orange on Vernon's mustache that he hadn't managed to wipe away.

What he said _sounded_ like a helpful interjection—but Lily knew better.

Petunia's lips pursed. "Because she can't be trusted to behave herself in public."

 _I'm still here_ , Lily thought, annoyed.

"She can't behave herself here, either. Just let her be. I'm tired of her antics."

"Vernon—"

"You know what, I'm not hungry," Lily muttered, and shoved her seat out. Though it was a total breach of etiquette to stand while the king sat, she got up and stormed out of the dining hall.

* * *

James was just about to go to bed—his alarm was set for four o'clock the next morning—when his phone started ringing. He didn't recognize the number. Usually James didn't like to answer unfamiliar calls, but for some reason he answered on the third ring.

"Hello?" he said cautiously.

"How do you feel about phone sex?"

He sighed. "Lily."

"Getting started already?" she laughed.

"As enticing as that sounds, we currently have a professional relationship," James pointed out. He went to the front door and checked the locks. "At the risk of being cliché, I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Spoilsport."

"My apologies."

"Didn't you mix business with pleasure when we first met?"

James sighed again as he went through his flat, turning off all the lights. "As I explained to you earlier today, that was a one-off."

"Perhaps I should take my business elsewhere, then."

"That's an interesting bluff."

Lily laughed again. "Fine. You've caught me. What _will_ you do with me now?"

"Spray cold water on you," he muttered.

"Don't pretend you aren't attracted to me," she said. "Neither of us believe that."

"Of course I'm attracted to you," said James. He went to his bed and pulled the covers back. "Why would I pretend otherwise?"

Lily made a tittering sound that had him smiling despite himself. "Lover, there is no doubt in my mind that you're trying to keep your distance."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

James had yet to tell Remus and Peter about his tryst with Lily during the palace job. They weren't likely to put him in a headlock, but James didn't doubt they would be almost as angry as Sirius. It wouldn't hurt to keep Lily at arm's length.

As James climbed into bed, he said lightly, "Isn't distance necessary for phone sex?"

"Oh? You've changed your mind?"

"Not a chance, lover."

"Keep teasing me like that and I might just come over there."

"Why are you really calling, Lily?"

She paused, and James waited patiently. He took a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand, not saying anything.

"I suppose I wanted to talk to someone who doesn't despise me."

The matter-of-factness in her tone felt like a punch to the gut, though James didn't have any reason to be so affected by it.

He cleared his throat. "Well, you've come to the right place."

* * *

 _For some reason the "with her tongue" part was just the funniest thing to me. Hopefully you were just as amused as I was while writing it!_


End file.
